


Wild

by aliveinvividity



Series: Darus Week (2016) [5]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cute Roughhousing, Daryl is an awkward sweetheart, Daryl lives in Hilltop, First Kiss, Fluff, Jesus loves it, M/M, Smoking, and it takes place after Negan, because Daryl, now, so this is an AU i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 01:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8266970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliveinvividity/pseuds/aliveinvividity
Summary: "Thank you for the food, today. The community really appreciates it." "S' no problem," the tracker replies, scratching the side of his nose.Awkward silence."So, about this afternoon," the smaller man starts, and the hunter groans."Don't."





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was really fun to write and over 50000606060606660+ years late  
> sorry about that
> 
> for darus week (day 7) and also the final drabble
> 
> enjoy, loves <333
> 
> tumblr: that-flawless-boi

Daryl doesn't enjoy romantic feelings when it comes from other people. Especially when it's his  _very own romantical feelings_. He's eating dinner ( _a deer he spent three days tracking down_ ) outside with the rest of Hilltop, eyeing a certain male member with crystalline eyes, long hair, and a ridiculously cheeky grin. The younger man is talking animatedly with Maggie at a wobbly picnic table, waving his arms about and making two other women sitting with them laugh. Maggie slaps him on the arm, saying something with pinched brows and an amused grin. Daryl's lips slightly tug at that. It was a blessing to see her happy at all after Glenn's terrible and untimely death. A rarity.

Daryl swallows thickly, and looks back down at his food, tearing off a bite-sized piece with his fingers. He puts it in his mouth and chews slowly, lost in thought. Ever since Negan had been thrown into that prison cell, life had been much easier for the communities. Personally, Daryl believes that they should have just killed him and been done with it, and he knew that he wasn't alone in that opinion. But it didn't happen, and that's just how things were.

Taking another bite, he looks back up at the others. Jesus' head is tilted back in a full body laugh, eyes closed, a gloved hand on his rumbling chest. Probably at something one of the three women said. The archer's thin lips part as he stares, unabashedly, at the sight. His cheeks even warm at how ridiculously cute it is, but the laugh ends shortly. Unfortunately. The hunter averts his eyes back to his deer steak when Paul begins to eat his own. Cleans the cracks of his teeth with his tongue and takes the last bite. Licks the sides and corners of his lips clean of any clinging meat. He sucks his fingers into his mouth, one by one, scouring them of any grease. Just as he's at his ring finger, his eyes flicker back up to meet Paul's own. And it's incredibly tense and awkward. But the other man seems to find it funny because he just covers his mouth, eyes lighting up in merriment. It takes a few seconds, but Daryl suddenly realizes why Paul is so gratified. His finger is still completely in his mouth, and some slobber is trailing down said finger. Hurriedly pulling it out of his mouth, eyes precluding from the shorter man's own, he goes to stand and awkwardly hits his hip bones against the table's edge. 

It's just not his day today, is it? 

Thoroughly embarrassed, he leaves the table one leg at a time, ( _which is the proper way to do it, you dumbass_ ), and stumbles away.  

**

He's sitting on the small, rickety porch steps that lead up into his trailer, smoking a half-smoked cigarette. The taste is bitter and strong against his tongue, but he's grown used to it. You just can't find any nice, full cigs anymore. Or ones that weren't broken. Or dry. The redneck sighs, looking up at the twilight sky. Stars begin to appear in shades of blue and white, the sky surrounding them a deep purple, flushes of pink and orange accompanying it. The sun's setting slowly, warmth escaping Hilltop. Daryl shivers when a small breeze blows, and he sniffs, taking another drag from the cigarette. He's only taken three drags and it's already almost gone. Another sigh.

"This seat taken?"

Daryl's thighs twitch in surprise, and he glares weakly at the other man. "Yeah."

Paul just chuckles, plopping down right next to him, their legs touching. The archer would scoot over, but there isn't enough room. And he honestly doesn't mind. They've grown closer over the past year, going on runs and just sharing small talk over campfires. Little shit like that. The younger man has really grown on him. Daryl's grown feelings for him, and he honestly doesn't know how to go about it.

"Thank you for the food, today. The community really appreciates it." 

"S' no problem," the tracker replies, scratching the side of his nose.

Awkward silence.

"So, about this afternoon," the smaller man starts, and the hunter groans.

" _Don't_."     

Another chuckle leaves the man's full lips, breath showing in a small cloud. "Sorry, sorry." They sit in silence, watching the sun set completely, leaving behind nothing but darkness and cold air. Jesus' glowing eyes are wide, lit up with the light of the stars. Daryl continuously looks between the sight and the younger man himself. Both look just as nice. The other catches him in the act and grins. The redneck's cheeks warm, and he coughs, looking away, parallel to earlier. "Hey," Paul says, butting him in the side with an elbow. "Who am I?" Daryl decides to humor him and watches as the younger man takes off a glove and sticks his ring finger into his mouth, purposefully and excessively drooling over it. 

The archer rasps, " _stop_ ," shoving him, but he's smirking, thoroughly amused at the hippie's antics. Said hippie is snickering. Shoves Daryl back. 

His dark blue eyes narrow playfully, and he pushes Jesus off the short porch steps. He wouldn't have done it if he knew it would hurt the other, which it doesn't. Paul falls off with a loud, " _oof_ ," ass hitting the muddy ground. He sits there, mouth open in shock, hands up at his sides, leather coat and baggy pants covered in algid muck. 

"That's what you get for messin' with me," the tracker shrugs. 

"Oh, it is _on_ ," the other swears, grabbing the older man with both hands and dragging him off the safe, dry steps. The both of them hit the dirt with loud grunts before full on roughhousing with one another. After minutes of tugs on hair and chokeholds and harmless slaps, Paul's finally got Daryl on his back, trapping his legs with his knees. "I win," the young man titters, grass and flecks of mud on his face and caught in his wild hair. "Give up, old man."

A large puff of air escapes his lungs, and his shoulder is sore, now. "You won, but I ain't no old man." The edges of Jesus' eyes crinkle under the weight of his smile, and Daryl swallows roughly, finally paying attention to the position they're in. The smile on the smaller man's face gradually fades, and they stare at each other, eyes widening. Paul shifts his body around, and the hunter's lips slightly part. He can't say anything, words trapped in his throat. Slowly- carefully- the other leans down and kisses his bottom lip. It's just a small peck, but the redneck's heart stops before pumping into hyperdrive. Jesus' beard scratches and tangles with his own, and his long hair spills down and tickles his neck. Suddenly, the younger man pulls back, stunned.

"I'm- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- I should have asked-" Daryl blinks rapidly and regains himself, grabbing the back of Paul's head and pulling him down for a real kiss. It's wet and a little sloppy, but it's perfect. A couple of minutes pass before they pull away. "That was ... nice," Jesus whispers, lips wet and swollen.

"Yeah," he rasps, looking him in the eyes, licking his own lips. He doesn't feel shy, which is strange. Ain't this shit supposed to make you feel all antsy and scared? They sit like that for a while, listening to the sounds of the night, on top of one another. "Wanna, uh ...," he trails off. "I got a checker board in my trailer."

Paul snorts and then the snort turns into a laugh. Which turns into a full, blown out guffaw. Head thrown back, eyes shut, teeth shining under the light of the stars. Pale throat bared. "Yes, I'd love to. Yes," he finishes, looking back down, wiping the corners of his eyes. "Let's go play checkers."

Jesus helps Daryl up with another tiny giggle, and they head into the trailer to play. They'd talk about the kiss and relationships later, but for now, they were gonna revel in the fact that it didn't ruin anything between them.

If anything, it made their lives all the more better.     


End file.
